


Chicken Dinner

by AelstTheSkald



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Blind Date, F/M, Mild Language, No fictional chickens were harmed in the making of this story, That's what we're telling Grawp anyways, blind dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AelstTheSkald/pseuds/AelstTheSkald
Summary: Sarah Williams has had a series of dating disasters over the years. Primarily due to Irene making it her personal mission to see that Sarah finds someone through the magic of blind dates. This wouldn't be such a problem though if some pesky goblins didn't keep getting involved! Sarah thinks she's seen it all but her next blind date will take a turn not even she could have seen coming.
Relationships: Irene | Karen Williams & Sarah Williams, Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 25
Kudos: 92





	Chicken Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> To begin with I'm just going to start by saying this is my first story posted to AO3. It's actually my first attempt at fan fiction period. The quality of the writing probably isn't that great so I apologize now if that is a bother. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy and just as a disclaimer, I do not own Labyrinth or anything related to it including the characters in this work.

Irene was at it again. 

She knew it was going to happen eventually, but she didn’t think it was going to be quite so… soon. To say Sarah Williams doesn’t have a great history with dating would be like saying that Jareth’s pants are just a little tight. Sarah has a horrible history with dating. It isn’t her fault, despite what Irene suggests. She has tried to make things work, really she has, but _somehow something_ would always go awry. Like when she went on her first date with Tommy Burkin at the tenth grade formal. 

He wasn’t the first guy at school that had shown an interest in her, but he was perhaps the first one that didn’t very quickly lose said interest when he found claw marks embedded into the side of his car. Or when his favorite pair of sneakers went missing and re-appeared two weeks later sans shoelaces and smelling of chickens. Or when the lights in his house started flickering in a very specific pattern – so specific that it was actually morse code and spelled out “Don’t date Sarah Williams” and when the fuck did they learn morse code? Who taught them that? 

Anyways, she had been so excited for that dance, her first (and it _was_ her first as far as she was concerned). She had the perfect dress picked out, she had managed to get her hair and make-up just right, she had even wrangled a promise from her father that he would not threaten her date with bodily harm when he picked her up. That wasn’t even the best part though. She hadn’t heard a peep from the goblins all day. It seemed that for once they had not figured out her plans in time. This, she decided, was probably due to her clever feint that morning. While Tommy was a bit confused as to why they needed to loudly fake a break up in the middle of her driveway – he had agreed and now she was looking forward to one whole date without any goblins. Yes, everything was finally going her way and this night was going to be perfect. And it was, until Tommy caught fire. 

No-one actually saw him catch fire. He was leading Sarah in a slow dance at the time when it appeared, according to later reports, that his hair spontaneously combusted. 

Sarah knew better though. The dance had been going wonderfully, just as planned, and Tommy had been leaning in for a kiss. While maybe.. okay Tommy wasn’t the ideal first kiss (he smelled vaguely of tuna), he would probably be the best and only option she had considering her record so far. She was going to see this one through. However just as she was about to finally show He who will not be named that she totally didn’t want him at all and was super happy with her love life despite some pesky, immature, uncalled for interference, her mark… ahem… date burst aflame. Ruined her night and poor Tommy had to shave his head. 

Ever since that fatal tenth grade formal she swore off dating. It was too risky, both for her sanity and the health and safety of her partners. Irene though, didn’t seem to get the memo. The first blind date she was set up on was during her senior year of college. She had just come home for Christmas and was looking forward to spending some time away from her thesis and with her family. Irene had been acting strangely ever since she picked her up from the airport but Sarah had just attributed that to Irene being Irene. 

She was a little unusual, but that had actually become a point of bonding between the two of them. Once Sarah had given her a proper chance she found that she actually rather liked Irene. She was odd in the way she was precisely neat and fiercely protective of her family in a way that Sarah found familiar. They had become if not close friends then at least warm with each other. It was this closeness that motivated Irene to start trying to find Sarah a partner. 

About two weeks before Christmas Irene pulled Sarah aside and asked if she was doing anything that weekend. While this wasn’t inherently unusual, Irene had Sarah run errands for her all the time when she was home, it did strike Sarah as odd. Irene seemed tense and unsure. She had seemed this way the entire time Sarah had been back and she couldn’t put her finger on why. She was sure Irene was hiding something but she wasn’t sure what. Sarah admitted she was free that weekend and Irene smiled.

“Well in that case, Could you do me a favor? Katherine Anderson’s son - you know the Andersons they moved in two years ago - well her older son has come down from Maine and he doesn’t really know his way around here yet. I want to have Mrs. Anderson over for dinner and I thought well, why don’t you show him around the town a bit” 

Sarah blinked in surprise, “ You want me to _show him around town_? What like a date?” 

“You don’t need to think of it like that. I just thought well … you’re both young and you don’t want to waste your evening listening to two old women dawdle, why don’t you go out and have some fun?”

“You know I enjoy your company, what is all this about?” Sarah said trying to meet Irene’s eye.

Irene’s face softened with a smile as she met Sarah’s look, “I know sweetie and I enjoy yours too, but young people ought to spend time with young people and you know he’s so new to this town. I just thought it would be nice to show him a warm welcome from someone his own age.” 

“Okay,” Sarah relented upon seeing Irene’s earnest face, “But just this once!” 

\---

Sarah regrets that now. It was the start of a series of disasters that she is still licking her wounds from. 

She went on what she now knows _was_ a date with Katherine Anderson’s son. While nothing happened, besides a tremendously awkward car ride with a man who was clearly not over his ex, the first relent by Sarah emboldened Irene to set her up on more blind dates. With every date Irene grew bolder and the goblins grew more aggressive. Each one failed in a progressively more comical fashion. 

On her third one, the man swore up and down he saw a clawed hand reach out from underneath the dining table. When he felt a tiny claw stroke his leg, he bolted. Her fifth blind date ended with the guy getting them both kicked out of a movie theatre. He broke down in the middle of the film claiming a chorus of maniacal laughter kept playing over the sound, though no-one else seemed to hear it. Her eighth date was particularly notable. In a harkening back to Tommy Burkin, he was set on fire – though this time it was his pants after he tried to feel her up in his car. She didn’t particularly regret the goblins interference on that one and Irene later agreed that he wasn’t good enough for her anyways. 

While no-one ever really believed the dates when they explained _exactly_ what happened to them, it was generally agreed upon after a while that in some way Sarah had to be to blame. Irene never claimed that Sarah was purposefully ruining the dates, but she did suggest that maybe Sarah wasn’t giving the men (and one woman, just to be sure that wasn’t the issue) a fair shake. 

And to be honest, Sarah wasn’t. She knows the dates are doomed to fail; blind dates rarely work out anyways even when you don’t have a horde of goblins trying to ruin them. She also knows Irene is well intentioned. She just wants Sarah to have someone and to not be quite so lonely. And despite all her protests otherwise, Sarah is a bit lonely. 

She has friends from school and friends from work, sure. She has nice acquaintances and nice neighbors. She has her job and her hobbies. She even has a cat that can tolerate goblins surprisingly well. Sarah has a fulfilled and happy life by all the measures that count. But she isn’t really, exactly _happy_.

She yearns for _there_. She misses it and everything that belongs to it (maybe even including _him_ even if she won’t admit it) like an ache in her bones. She still sees the goblins everywhere, if indirectly. She still talks regularly to Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Didymus through her mirror. She is still connected to the Underground. However, she still belongs to the Aboveground and maybe on some level she knows that’s just not where she is meant to be. 

She’s made a good life in the Aboveground though. She’s fought her way to near perfection and proven that she can bend the world to her will, even if goblins sweep through and destroy all her work periodically. She is a force to be reckoned with, to be feared, and she is proud of it. So why, why, why does Irene keep insisting on these pointless dates?

\---

“Just give him a shot, Honey. He seems like such a nice guy and he’s interested in the same things you are!” Irene insisted. 

This was the twenty-seventh blind date she has tried to set Sarah up on. The _twenty-seventh_. Sarah knew it was going to come eventually. She had escaped last Thanksgiving relatively unscathed and it had been a while since Irene’s last attempt at match-making. 

But she had really hoped it wouldn’t. 

“ I don’t want to Irene. I don’t care if we have any interests in common. I told you last time that I’m done with these horrible set-ups and I meant it! No more,” Sarah huffed, tense with frustration. 

“I understand that you’re frustrated Sarah but I really do think this time will work out. He likes all those fantasy novels you’re so obsessed with, he works in the same field as you. I’ve met him and I can just tell he is a perfect fit for you!”

“You said the same thing about all the others,” Sarah refuted turning away from Irene and heading for the kitchen. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours since she got home and already Irene was springing this on her. 

“I have not! And even if I have before that doesn’t matter because it _is_ true this time,” an evil gleam entered her eye, “ – and I already booked the dinner for you two at _Le plat Classique_ , you wouldn’t want to back out now would you Sarah dear? It’s terribly expensive.” 

Sarah turned in shock. Irene had her in a corner and she knew it. She had to have planned this weeks in advance to book a table at _Le plat Classique_. It was the most expensive restaurant in the area and could take up to a month to get a reservation there. Specifically she probably had to name drop Sarah’s dad to get the table, which means if she backed out now it would look extremely rude on her part.

But she certainly didn’t want to. This could go so bad. Would definitely go so bad. At a stuffy place like that the goblins would have a field day. She shuddered to think what they could make of the restaurant within the few minutes it would take for the date to go south. And somehow all that damage would get pinned on her. No, she definitely didn’t want to go but what choice did she have? 

\---

“Why am I doing this again?” She sighed to herself as she pulled the key out of the ignition.

It was a particularly cold night in East New York. While it was technically spring, the bite of winter had yet to abate and the chill that hung in the air was seeping into her car. 

She didn’t want to be here. She could be in her room right now, curled up under the blankets and reading. Or better yet she could be staying up until midnight with Toby, watching scary movies until Irene told him to go to bed. 

She got so little time with him these days. He was growing up fast and her work already demanded so much of her time. She didn’t like the ever increasing divide she sensed between them and now that she was at home for once to spend time with him, where was she? Not there!

Sarah knew she was stalling. It wouldn’t do any good to sit around and grumble at the state of things. These dates were just like band aids, better to rip them off quickly and get it over with. With that thought she grudgingly stepped out of her car and absentmindedly cursed herself for not wearing something warmer. While the current dress she had on was appropriate for a place like _La plat Classique_ , it was not fitting for the brisk cold of the night. The only consolation was a meager shawl she had worn over the little black number. It was while bundling this rather pathetic shawl tighter that she heard a loud clatter from the nearby alley. 

Immediately put on alert Sarah stopped in her tracks. 

There were plenty of things that could make noises like that at this time of night. Cats digging through the trash, drunk people making their way home. Lots of things could make that noise. But Sarah instinctively and always assumed goblins.

Ducking around the corner of the building she peered into the back alley. 

Nothing. There was nothing down the alley. No trash cans to overturn, no bottles to crush, nothing that could have made that noise. It was empty and well lit, two large street lights illuminating the path on both sides. She couldn’t see any goblins but then again if they were there she probably wouldn’t. Not at first anyways. She scanned the alley one more time before quietly backing away. Just as she turned her back she heard a muffled thud come from the same place. Pivoting on her feet she once more found nothing. Sarah sighed and accepted that whatever caused the noise probably wasn’t something she could do anything about. Accepting this, she headed to the front of the restaurant and walked in. 

\---

 _La plat Classique_ was warm. She could say that about it. It was also perhaps the most expensive restaurant she had been to in a long time. The very thought set her on edge. As the host walked her to the table she couldn’t help but take inventory of all the priceless items that could be destroyed during the course of one dinner. 

A fragile china vase teetering on a pedestal as they walked past the foyer. A string of fine pearls wrapped around a women’s neck. Oh and wouldn’t they _love_ to watch those bounce across the floors. The worst part though had to be the chandelier. 

It was so beautiful - a perfect lattice of finely chiseled crystals. Huge and ostentatious and hanging from a single wire in the middle of the ceiling. She nearly hyperventilated when she saw it. This place was a virtual playground of epic proportions and she just knew her chaos loving groupies were going to have a field day with it. 

She was contemplating (panicking) on these thoughts when the host finally came back to her table leading a figure behind him. At this she broke out of her reverie. She had been so busy worrying about the goblins that she had completely forgotten her date. 

Looking up to greet him with a smile she blanched. 

He was green.

Like not sickly green. He was literally green. Olive green and smiling awkwardly with a mouth full of sharp, crooked teeth. Sarah’s eyes raked down the figure and back up again. He, if he was a he and she wasn’t entirely sure, was wearing a heavy trench coat and a wide brimmed fedora pushed down around his head. He seemed… lopsided and lumps stuck out from his coat at odd places. She could swear she saw a glimpse of scales peeking out between the flaps of the coat. 

He sneezed and a voice from his torso said bless you.

Sarah’s eyes shot to the host. He hadn’t noticed. She was dumbfounded. The host didn’t seem to notice the unusual appearance of her date at all. In fact, as she peered about the room, no one did. The patrons continued to eat and chatter just as usual, ignoring Sarah and her burgeoning crisis with the utmost of ease. 

Sarah looked back to her _date_ , “ Hello, it’s nice to meet… you,” she said haltingly while her gaze darted between the retreating host, indifferent diners, and green groom.

“Hi! My name is Grawp!” He said in a shrill, chipper voice before yelping as his stomach appeared to sharply twist about. 

“I meeaannn,” he drew out “My name is Charles, yeah.. My name is Charles.” At this he grew a satisfied look as if pleased with remembering the name. He leaned back, causing his apparently troublesome stomach to slip and his whole body to wobble.

At this point Sarah’s mind finally came back from the shock and to say she was furious was an understatement. How dare they! How dare they interfere like this! She had accepted a lot of bullshit in her time but this took the cake. Where was her actual date? Did they think this would work? All these questions rushed through her mind in a matter of seconds and just as quickly a plan started to form. 

She was sure _he_ was behind this - purposefully causing her trouble and trying to ruin her life just like always. She was done. He wanted her to play his game? He wanted to mess with her life? Fine then. She could play, and she would do it better than he ever could. 

With this in mind she twisted her face into a saccharine smile and said, “Charles? What a nice name, My name is Sarah. So _Charles_ where do you work? Irene hasn’t told me much about you.”

His eyes grew wide and he gulped, “Work? Ahhhhh work, yes I work.” He drew the words out as he started to sweat. 

Hm. Sarah didn’t know goblins could sweat. 

“ I work at the…. Office,” he broke out into a proud grin, “Yes! I work at the office!”

“I figured. But what office? Where? Irene said we work in the same field maybe I know the company.” Sarah Williams felt evil and she liked it. 

“Uhhhh.. Food!” He squawked as their waiter approached the table, “You bring food right?”

The waiter startled at the address and for a moment almost seemed like he realized just how strange looking the gentleman in the trench coat really was - but just as soon as the glimpse of recognition entered his eye, it left. 

“I do… bring the food, yes Sir. I assume you are ready to place your order,” pulling out his notepad.

Sarah was a little miffed at the interruption to her line of questioning but soon realized an even better way to make her night worth the trouble.

“I heard the braised chicken here was amazing, you just have to try it Charles.”

Excited mumbling broke out along the whole of his body. His foot squeaked in excitement and a near crazed look of anticipation entered his eye. “ Chickens? There are chickies here?!” At this the top part of his body pivoted around as if he hoped to find one still running around. 

“Of course silly! Would you like one?” Perhaps she was being a bit cruel but she was pissed. 

“Yes!” He exclaimed with an eager shout. 

\---

Looking back Sarah realizes that maybe her actions were more than a bit cruel. Grawp and co. were painfully cheery for the entirety of the wait for their dinner. The poorly concealed goblins were nearly shaking in anticipation (she never really did understand why goblins were so obsessed with chickens) but when the food arrived, well…

“Where’s the chickie?” Grawp asked, a confused look in his eye as he stared down at the meat floating in a bowl of stew. 

“It’s right there Charles,” she said pointing to the bowl, “Haven’t you eaten chicken before?”

“Eat… eat… EAT,” the last part was screamed as Grawp’s face went from befuddled to horrified. “The Chickies is dead, they killed the chickies!!! Oh ohhhh poor chickies,” he broke out into sobs as his makeshift body trembled. His torso began to noisily chatter and a set of teary eyes blinked up through the coat where the knees were supposed to be.

If the rest of the restaurant hadn’t noticed them before, they did now. Heads turned to look at the goblin man bawling his eyes out screeching, “Dead chickie, dead chickie, They has killed the chickie!” The waiter’s startled expression returned ten fold. 

“Sir, I must ask you to quiet down, this is respectable establishment and we can’t have..” the waiter’s request was interrupted by Grawp pulling out what appeared to be part of a lace curtain and loudly blowing his nose into it. 

Sarah realized she needed to get the goblins out of there and fast. 

“I’m terribly sorry for the trouble, we’ll be leaving now.” She said with an apologetic look to the waiter before grabbing Grawp by the arm and getting him to stand, “C’mon… Charles, we have to go now.” 

“Grawp is a murderer! He should be punished! Yes! Punished! Thrown in the bogs for a hundred years!”

“Now now Charles, someone clearly had a bit too much of that sherry before dinner. Let’s go,” with this she began to forcefully drag the goblins out of the restaurant. The feet of the goblins slipped up more than once and at one point she was dragging a disembodied torso across the restaurant while a goblin in children’s dress shoes blinked in confusion from behind them. 

\---

“Please stop crying Grawp, I’m sorry – I promise you that wasn’t a chicken,” Sarah pleaded. 

They were currently in the back alley she had noticed earlier. They had fallen out of the coat as soon as they were out of sight and now she had three very upset goblins all terrified they were going to suffer the wrath of the chicken god on her hands.

“But you said!”

“I lied,” She blurted out. “I was angry and frustrated and I lied. I promise Grawp it wasn’t a chicken, they would never kill a chicken.”

Grawp peered up at her through his tears and gave a loud sniff, “You promise?”

“Yes I promise Grawp, that was not a chicken.” 

A part in the back of her mind wriggled at the lie. She felt guilty about lying to the goblins, but wouldn’t it be worse to leave them thinking they killed a chicken? That would be worse right?

For once she would like to be able to go on a date without ending it on a morally ambiguous note that leaves her questioning if she’s a good person because she lied to three goblins in a trench coat about fancy chicken soup. Just once.

While consoling Grawp and the others on the fact that they were perfectly decent goblins and they had done absolutely nothing wrong a stiff wind blew down the alley. She caught something in the edge of her vision. Glitter?

Oh no, not glitter.

She stiffly turned, praying that it wasn’t who she thought it was. It was. In all his glory the goblin king appeared through a cloud of fog, glitter carried on the breeze as his boots clacked against the wet pavement. He met her eyes with a look of cold fury. 

Yeah, he was pissed. 

The goblins all straightened up as much as they could given the extremity of their distress. His gaze shifted to them for a moment before quietly signaling something to them with a wave of his hand. He shifted his focus back on Sarah as the three goblins scurried behind him and into the fog. 

“You upset them,” he said sharply.

It had been so long since she heard his voice, so long since she had seen him. Hoggle mentioned him occasionally in their talks, more of a slip than anything usually, but she hadn’t really heard anything from him in years. This was different and at the moment she was remembering just how awe-struck she was the first time she saw him.

When he smirked she remembered just how quickly she grew to hate him that first time too.

“You messed with my date,” she huffed, marching forward to meet his stare head on. 

At this Jareth looked indignant, “I would hardly call that a date, _Sarah mine_.” He ended the last part on a purr as he leaned in closer, “I can assure you the goblins are far better company than that milk sop. In fact, they are better company than most of those rather sad weasels you’ve tried your hand with.”

She definitely remembered why she hated him. “Better a weasel than a rat.”

“I see you still carry all those bad habits you got from Higgle, how unfortunate.” Somehow he managed to sound both genuinely disappointed and insufferably superior at the same time. It was a skill really. He continued, “ I am not here to discuss our past or whatever bad habits you choose to pursue – No I am here because you left a rather nasty mess for me to clean up here Precious. That was terribly rude of you”

“Rude of me?” she exclaimed, “Rude of me? It’s your goblins that caused a scene, why were they even here in the first place, huh? And did you genuinely think they could pull that off?”

Sarah’s voice grew in volume as she spoke. Tonight had been a breaking point on her part, years of embarrassment and self righteous fury culminating after this one, ridiculous stunt. Now seeing him here, the author of all her misery and trouble acting just as condescending as ever, she felt the calm that had settled over her while comforting the goblins dissipate. 

“You have consistently, constantly stuck your nose in my business. You have embarrassed me in front of my friends, my family, complete strangers. You have endangered people’s _lives_ with some of those tricks. I’m known as the local witch in some circles. _Witch!_ Because of you and all the weird shit that happens around me anytime I get within five feet of any person who I could remotely be interested in! And you’re saying that I was rude?”

She spat out the last word in a fit. After twelve years of frustration she had finally said what she wanted to. She had finally confronted that stupid, meddlesome king and why was he laughing?

He was laughing. His shoulders were shaking as he doubled over snickering. 

“Ah Sarah, I didn’t realize the goblins’ fun was going to upset you quite so much. They had the best intentions I assure you. Tell me, did you really want to go on any of those… dates?” He said the last word with a sneer before resuming, “ They were doing you a favor and as for my part, well I couldn’t care less what happens to you or who you choose to pursue”

He had begun to circle around her as he spoke, chin held high. 

“You weren’t a part of it? You are trying to tell me you weren’t involved at all? They’re your goblins!”

He hovered behind her before saying, “I don’t control what they do every hour of the day Sarah. That would be exhausting and a waste of my important time,” he leaned over her shoulder to pick a speck off her dress, “And for some reason, quite beyond me, they do like to spend they’re free time around you Precious.”

Sarah felt her blood pressure rise before remembering something.

She whipped around to his surprise, “Can the goblins set people on fire? Like without having to touch them or anything?”

He looked shocked for a moment before recovering, a suspicious look in his eye, “I hardly see why that should concern you.”

A grin broke out across her face, “They can’t, can they? No one could have set Tommy on fire, not with me being so close I would have seen them – goblin or not – No one except you.” At this point Sarah had the smug grin. Jareth might have been trying to convince her that he didn’t care but no one could have done that to Tommy Burkin in the tenth grade but him. He couldn’t stand to see her dancing with anyone else, much less kiss them.

He looked deeply uncomfortable at her haughty smile before quickly saying, “ I am sure I have no idea what you mean, and as I said before I have no concern as to whatever things of the past you seem so preoccupied with – I am here to gain reparations for the inconvenience you have brought me then I shall –“ 

Sarah sneezed loudly. 

It hadn’t occurred to her until now but she had been in the cold for a while now with only her thin dress as protection. She started to shiver as the chill set in. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, scanning her up and down as if her shoes held the answer to her strange behavior. 

She rolled her eyes at him before pulling her shawl tighter, “It’s cold genius, I’m human – I’m not sure how the cold works for your lot but I’ve been out for a while now and I’m freezing.”

His brows knit together as he stared at her, like the thought of getting cold was just too perplexing to understand and perhaps she was just trying to be inconvenient with all her human frailties.

At least that’s what Sarah thought he looked like.

He began to shrug off his coat and hand it to her.

“Oh no! I’m not taking anything from you. I know how that works, I’ll owe you something and I refuse to owe you anything,” she pushed her hands out as though to stop him from coming any closer.

“Oh please, like I’m going to quibble over a little coat, just take it – I refuse to stand around and watch you freeze to death because you decided to go out ill-equipped for the weather.”

“Excuse me!” she spurted, “Not everyone has formal wear for every type of weather. We can’t all spend our days deciding how many feathers is too many.”

Now he spurted, though with indignation, “Just take the silly coat! It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me!”

Quiet settled between the two of them.

Jareth broke the silence with a soft voice, “Just take the coat,” holding it out.

Sarah’s eyes darted between his face and the proffered item before she hesitantly reached out and took it. It looked like it would have been rough. She would have sworn it was some type of reptile leather on first sight, but it felt soft under hands. The coat smelt of something vaguely sweet too, peaches she would later realize. 

“Thank you,” she said. “But I’m going to have to offer something in return. I won’t allow you to walk away with a debt from me.”

He groaned before starting, “Will you just put your pride behind you and accept the damn-“

“How about next Friday?”

“What” The confused puppy dog look returned to his face, “What are you talking about? What about next Friday?”

“What about next Friday?” she repeated, shyly but increasingly more sure. “ I need to repay you or return the coat, so how about next Friday you come and take it back. I can bring my own and we can meet in the park. You remember the park by my house, you used to follow me there.” She smiled wistfully on the last words before looking him in the eye, “Would that work for you?”

He looked shocked. Perhaps even more shocked than Grawp did on learning what his dinner was. 

“You want to _meet me in the park_? What like a date?”

“Yeah, I guess - if you’re okay with it. Only this once though! If I decide to continue it then that’s my prerogative and I don’t want you to go all crazy meddling in my life afterwards either, got it?”

“Yes I got it,” he breathed, eyes still wide with surprise. “But why? Why now?”

“I guess I’m curious. You’re the only person I know just as stubborn as I am, maybe even a little more.”

With that he smiled and purred, “Why Precious, are you saying you’re power _isn’t_ as great as mine?”

She rolled her eyes before groaning, “My power is just as great as yours, you overindulged avian. But I can acknowledge that perhaps I am curious to see how a date with an… equal would go” 

“Then it’s a date.”

Sarah hoped she wouldn’t regret this. 

\--- 

_On the other side of the alley later that night:_

Charles White had a horrible headache. He didn’t remember much from earlier in the night either. All he could recall was walking up to _La plat Classique,_ nervous but excited for his first date in a while. He had broken up with his long time girlfriend a few months ago and was finally going to give dating a try again. He didn’t know much about Sarah Williams but he had heard she was beautiful. He really was looking forward to this and – BANG. A sharp pain bled through the back of his head as he smashed against the ground. His vision began to fade just as someone entered the corner of his sight. He could have sworn the last thing he saw before he blacked out was… a tiny green man? He thinks he may have just been seeing things at that point. Either way he would have to call Irene tomorrow and apologize to Sarah for showing her up. It’s strange though, he assumed whoever hit him had been there to mug him, but they didn’t take his wallet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have any notes on the writing/story or just want to comment then please feel free to! I would love to hear anything anyone has to say.


End file.
